Читать книгу Neil White 3 Book Bundle - Neil White - Страница 25

Charlie tried to focus but the movement behind the bar seemed blurred, patches of light shimmering in front of him. He lifted his nearly empty glass, drained it and went to put the glass on the table, but misjudged it, so that the glass made a bang. The landlord looked over.

He was in The Old Star, a low-ceilinged pub of small side rooms that had avoided the open plan craze of the eighties. The lighting was subdued and the place kept warm by log fires. It was too easy to fall asleep there after a long day at the office.

He put his head back, closed his eyes and the sounds of the bar went distant. The smell of stale beer filtered into his nose, what used to be hidden by cigarette smoke before the smoking ban. He almost laughed. He knew this was too much for a Monday night, but it didn’t feel like the evening would get better if he went home. Then he realised that he was laughing, just a chuckle, but he was on his own, his eyes closed.

Charlie stopped himself as he thought of the message he’d had from Julie that morning, complaining about his Saturday night call. He felt for the phone in his pocket. Perhaps he ought to give her a ring, just to say sorry. But something stopped him; a last shred of common sense still making itself heard above the jangle of drunken musings.

He picked up his glass again. There was solace in there.

There was a noise in front of him. He knew who it would be: the landlord telling him that he’d had enough. He wasn’t interested in hearing that, and so he kept his eyes closed. Then he heard someone say, ‘Mr Barker?’

That ruled out the landlord or any of his clients. He was Charlie to everyone.

Charlie opened his eyes slowly and then waited for them to adjust, as the bar seemed to focus in and out and swirl in front of him. Then he saw that the person who was in front of him was Ted Kenyon.

Charlie closed his eyes again. He didn’t want an argument. He had left his job behind when he locked the door to the office.

‘Mr Barker, please wake up.’

He sighed. There was no escaping it. He sat up and moved around the side of the table. ‘I wasn’t asleep, I was resting my eyes,’ he said, his head bobbing as he spoke. When Ted didn’t respond, he added, ‘I’ll need a drink for this. Can I get you one?’

Ted looked uncertain at first, and then he nodded. ‘I’ll join you.’

Charlie went to the bar. The barman gave him a look as if he was about to refuse service, but then he glanced over at Ted and poured Charlie the same again, along with a pint for Ted.

When Charlie sat down, slumping back into his seat, Ted said, ‘Don’t you think you ought to slow down?’

Charlie lifted the pint to his lips, let some of the beer swim into his mouth, and then put his glass down. ‘Yes, I do, but I’m not making plans for it yet,’ he said, his voice coming out with more of a slur than he expected. He smiled. ‘I’m guessing this is no coincidence. Twice in one day. How has it been for you?’

‘Mixed.’ When Charlie frowned, Ted added, ‘The man I blamed for Alice’s killer still being free is dead, and so I should be happy, even though that is a bad thing to say, but I’m not.’

‘Perhaps because you’re a good man.’

‘That’s not what people think anymore.’

‘What, the girl in the car?’

Ted closed his eyes for a moment. ‘That was a set-up. I wasn’t doing anything.’

Charlie shrugged. He had stopped being a judge of human behaviour a long time ago. He helped to clean up the mess, not wonder how it happened.

Ted didn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Charlie thought he was going to leave, but he didn’t. Charlie gave it a few more seconds before he said, ‘You haven’t come here to watch me drink. So what can I do for you?’

‘I want you to tell me about Billy Privett.’

‘I can’t do that. It’s confidential.’

‘But Billy is dead now.’

Charlie sighed. ‘I’m sorry, but the Law Society won’t see it like that.’

Ted looked down at that, and suddenly Charlie felt shitty. He leant forward.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so blunt, but what did you expect me to say?’

‘You know things about how my daughter died,’ Ted said quietly, still looking at the floor. ‘When Billy was alive, I didn’t have to think about you, but now he is, well, you are all I have left.’ He looked up. ‘I know things that I’ve been told, but not the full story, and that’s what I need to know. I won’t tell anyone.’ Then he shook his head, answering his own query. ‘This was a stupid idea. I’ll go,’ and he stood as if to leave.

Charlie shook his head. ‘Sit down. Finish your drink.’

Ted looked at him unsure, and so Charlie said, ‘I don’t know anything about Alice’s death. Amelia looked after Billy Privett in relation to Alice’s case. She knew it would get media attention and we decided that she would be better for the interviews.’

Ted looked dejected, and for a moment, despite the boozy fog, Charlie saw his turmoil, that he just wanted answers.

‘I can tell you one thing, if it makes you feel any better,’ Charlie said.

Ted looked at him, expectant.

‘I have never heard anything from Amelia that suggested that Billy killed your daughter. I don’t know what part he did play, but if he murdered your daughter, he didn’t blurt it out to Amelia.’

Ted considered that for a moment, and then said, ‘Do people ever lie to their lawyers?’

Charlie smiled ruefully and took a drink. When he put his glass down, he replied, ‘All the time, Mr Kenyon. All the fucking time.’

Ted sighed and got to his feet. Charlie could tell that he wasn’t going to hang around anymore.

‘Thank you for your time, Mr Barker.’

‘It’s Charlie,’ he said.

Ted nodded at that but didn’t answer, and then turned to go.

Once Charlie was alone again, he looked at the full glass Ted had left behind and then wondered about what thoughts he was taking home with him. He could only guess at the injustice he must feel every time he woke up. Then Charlie thought of how he must have looked to Ted, drunk on a Monday night. Charlie felt the creep of self-pity, knowing that he was just avoiding an empty house.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. He thought again about calling Julie, but stopped himself. He put his phone away and tried not to think about her. Instead, he picked up his glass.

He would have just one more and then go home.